Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Care Ethics in Online Teaching
Care Ethics in Online Teaching
Colette Rabin
To cite this article: Colette Rabin (2021) Care Ethics in Online Teaching, Studying Teacher
Education, 17:1, 38-56, DOI: 10.1080/17425964.2021.1902801
Article views: 85
ARTICLE
Caring is a core responsibility for educators if we consider teaching as a moral endeavor (e.g.,
Goodlad et al., 1990; Hansen, 2001; Noddings, 2002a). In care ethics, relationships are
considered the impetus and medium for moral learning (Noddings, 2002a). An innate desire
to be in caring relationships motivates our learning to relate with care. In recent years,
researchers have begun to explore the possibilities for care ethics in the online environment
(e.g., Mastel-Smith et al., 2015; Robinson et al., 2020, 2017; Swartz et al., 2018; Velasquez et al.,
2013). The isolation, automation, and standardization of online learning diminish opportu
nities for the caring encounters that are central to care ethics (Damarin, 1994; Kostogriz,
2012). Care ethics has been both curriculum and research focus for me as a teacher educator
(Rabin, 2019); In this three-year self-study, I explored my efforts to prioritize care ethics in
online instruction, which became particularly relevant as the 2020 pandemic pushed all
instruction online. Cutri and Whiting (2018) metaphorical train had arrived:
(T)eaching with technology in higher education is a train coming down the track straight
for us general teacher educators regardless of our content areas. Our choice is to either
be run over by that train, or to establish a position for ourselves on that train and make
that position as true to our content area concerns and learning theory commitments as
possible. (p. 126)
through transcending context (Gilligan, 1982; Held, 2006). A care ethicist is an interde
pendent social agent embedded in a particular situation and positionality. Applied to
education, learning to care is a primary purpose of schooling (Noddings, 2002a).
Reciprocal, responsive, and enduring relationships are recognized as the medium through
which experiences of schooling create habits of mind. ‘We cannot separate means and
ends in education, because the desired result is part of the process, and the process
carries with it the notion of the persons undergoing it becoming somehow “better”’
(Noddings, 1984, p. 174).
Unlike traditional moral education where virtues are taught didactically, care ethics
focuses on experiences of caring as the medium through which we learn to care. Caring-
for entails engrossing oneself in the cared-for’s concerns enough to understand their
experience and undergo motivational displacement to respond to their needs. Noddings
(2002a) approach to moral education centers on open-ended process-oriented experi
ences: modeling, practice, dialogue, and confirmation. A teacher ‘models’ caring relations,
‘confirms’ an other’s best intentions, and creates opportunities for ‘dialogue,’ and to
‘practice’ caring.
Teacher educators seek to develop candidates’ capacities for caring relationships as
well as dispositions to care (Rector-Aranda, 2019; Sanger & Osguthorpe, 2013; Schussler &
Knarr, 2013). However, teacher education frequently overlooks preparing candidates to
develop caring collaborative relationships with other teachers (Murawski & Dieker, 2013;
Rabin, 2019b; Sanger & Osguthorpe, 2013). Caring teacher relationships could support
collaboration (Aragon, 2003; Hargreaves, 2002; Rabin, 2019b) and contribute to collective
efficacy (Goddard et al., 2004), which is associated with responding to the emotional
labor of teaching and teacher retention (Boe et al., 2008 ; Kostogriz, 2012).
example: Aragon, 2003; Du et al., 2005; Tu, 2000). Social presence can be cultivated in the
online realm through whole and particularly small group discussion where students
interact frequently to share opinions and contribute to each other’s learning (Akcaoglu
& Lee, 2016; Knapp, 2018). Specific applications of online discussion, such as sharing
through peer blogs, video conference, or groupwork have been found successful in
cultivating social presence (Akcaoglu & Lee, 2016; Knapp, 2018).
Interrupting the automation at the heart of online teaching would make way for ‘free
thinking’ towards connection and ultimately, care.
Several notable case studies have explored instructor and student perceptions of
caring in online learning (Mastel-Smith et al., 2015; Robinson et al., 2020; Swartz et al.,
2018; Velasquez et al., 2013). The findings mirror social presence research, but also reveal
aspects of relationship in online environments that could go overlooked without the
lenses of care ethics. Aligned with social presence, a plethora of pedagogical choices were
perceived as caring: synchronous activities; peer-to-peer support through groupwork;
projects drawing on students’ interests; options for representing learning; solicitation of
student feedback; and, relevant and simplified resources (Robinson et al., 2020, 2017;
Velasquez et al., 2013). Students perceived instructors as caring when they appeared
observant; responded in timely personalized ways; reflected awareness of their tone in
communications; affirmed students’ abilities; and included multiple discussion fora
(Robinson et al., 2020, 2020; Velasquez et al., 2013).
The lenses of care ethics revealed dimensions of relating online through modeling,
confirmation, reciprocity, and tensions between caring, paternalism, and patronization.
When instructors demonstrated flexibility, welcomed revisions, and softened deadlines,
students described experiencing confirmation, the assumption of good intentions
(Robinson et al., 2020; Velasquez et al., 2013). Caring was also perceived when instructors
transcended niceties to provide constructive feedback, repudiate and remind students of
boundaries (Robinson et al., 2020). This touches on how a care ethics perspective reveals
the moral qualities of relationships and harkens to early research on caring as ‘more than
gentle smiles and warm hugs’ (Goldstein, 2009, p. 259); care defined within an ethic differs
from the quotidian connotation of the term, caring, as a warm fuzzy static female
personality trait (Rabin & Smith, 2013).
Caring was also perceived as requiring reciprocity, reflecting Noddings (1984) philoso
phical conception of caring (Mastel-Smith et al., 2015; Velasquez et al., 2013). Students
pointed to not only instructors’ modeling promptness necessary for social presence, but
also highlighted the salience of instructors’ disclosure, freedom from judgment, willing
ness to give the benefit of the doubt, and eagerness to connect (Mastel-Smith et al., 2015;
Velasquez et al., 2013). Velasquez et al. (2013) noticed a virtuous circle: factors of caring
interrelated and served to create a repeated cycle in which the instructor gained under
standing from students’ feedback and executed actions students perceived as caring.
Witnessing students’ growth reenergized the instructor to continue caring.
In a case study exploring the tension between caring and paternalism in online teaching
during a crisis, Swartz et al. (2018) decided to continue teaching their courses remotely during
South Africa’s 2016 student protests over access to higher education. They analyzed their
unilateral assertion of authority during a crisis in the distanced context of online teaching and
in retrospect they questioned whether their actions were caring. They emphasized the
importance of balancing power with involvement of all stakeholders. In the online environ
ment during a crisis this balance was elusive, and Swartz et al. (2019) assert the nature of
care – in contrast with a norm – as an ideal we can never perfectly achieve: ‘(C)are is not
something that we can ever achieve, but that we can strive towards, allows us breathing
space in our attempts as providing the best care possible to our students and us . . . ’ (p. 61).
As an ideal, caring is aspirational and cannot be predetermined; issues of power in the
dispersed online environment make understanding the cared-for’s needs complex.
STUDYING TEACHER EDUCATION 43
Methodology
In this self-study in one multiple-subject joint credential/MA program at a large public state
university, over the course of six iterations and seven courses (one semester I taught two
sections), I sought to understand the prioritization of care ethics in a fully online course
with both asynchronous and synchronous activities. Care ethics was course content in our
teacher preparation program; thus, the tension between instructional demands and care
was resolved (Berry, 2019). Quotidian definitions of caring are diffuse compared to the
term, care, within an ethic. With care ethics as curriculum, my teacher candidates -students
were uniquely situated to critique its implementation (Rabin & Smith, 2013). I drew on
LaBoskey’s (2004) characteristics of self-study as self-initiated, self-focused, improvement-
aimed, interactive, drawing on multiple qualitative methods, and demonstrating validity
through trustworthiness (Michler, 1990). Further, Kitchen’s conceptualization of relational
teacher education (RTE) illuminated the imperative of relationships with teacher candidates
as critical from a methodological standpoint in this study (Kitchen, 2005b). I aimed to be
receptive to learning from my teacher candidates’ perspectives how (and if) I could design
in the online environment for care. This appeared implausible but imperative to me to ‘live
my values more fully in my practice’ (Whitehead, 2000, p. 90).
Data Collection
Data collection was iterative; I implemented changes in my teaching each semester based
on what I learned with teacher candidates (LaBoskey, 2004). Data included (1) candidates’
written reflections over their learning, (2) student work, (3) video-ed synchronous class
sessions, (4) my reflective notes and course materials, (5) four periodic surveys of all
candidates per semester, and (6) self-nominated candidate interviews (see Appendix A for
survey/interview protocol). Given my own subjectivity and position of power,
I interviewed any willing teacher candidates only after they’d completed my courses
and assessments were finalized, engaged them in member-checking, offered group or
solo interviews, and explicitly requested their critiques. I opened interviews with a request
44 C. RABIN
for ‘brutal honesty’ to help me improve my practice. To reflect the focus on relationships
and dialogue, I offered candidates the choice to interview in groups of 3–4 and only 5
candidates interviewed solo. Early on, I found that candidates critiqued my practice more
freely in a group interview and so I continued this practice throughout the study. 108
candidates interviewed in groups (~5 interviews per semester, 28 group and 5 solo
interviews).
Analysis
At each analytic phase, I took a grounded theory approach (Merriam, 1998/2007) and also
employed a priori interpretive categories within care ethics: caring, modeling, practice,
dialogue, and confirmation. I examined the data sets at the end-of-each-semester.
I conducted inductive interpretive coding to identify emergent themes, highlighting
phrases, sentences, and longer excerpts. By the end-of-the-first-year onward, I engaged
candidates in member-checking initial interpretations of themes gleaned thus far. Since
they were learning teacher inquiry methods as part of their joint credential-masters
research project, they had preparation to serve as critical friends. I shared that I was
seeking to complicate my interpretations.
Findings
In online teaching, teacher candidates experienced subjectivity to my course design and
heightened teacher power. Care was perceived when modeling through story-telling and
authenticity required continuity. Caring collaborations required dialogic pedagogies and
de-centering grading. Ultimately, caring was cumulative and idiosyncratic.
I don’t know if there’s anything you could do (to cultivate caring). You asked us how we were,
told us how you were, tied this to coursework, had a reassuring demeaner, gave feedback on
every revision, emailed us even on the weekend. I got the feeling over time that you actually
cared about us . . . . Nothing alone would do authenticity. One thing did stick out . . . when the
tech person helped. He apologized for interrupting class. You said something like, ‘Are you
kidding? We wouldn’t get to do anything without your help and your time and thank you.’
I was like, okay she cares. It wasn’t lost on me that you were a White instructor in a position of
power.
Freya shows how a sense of instructor caring developed over time and how it could be
undermined. Stand-alone efforts to care seem saccharin and inauthentic, arguably more
so in the distanced online environment.
STUDYING TEACHER EDUCATION 45
You are more vulnerable to the teacher’s ways of teaching because maybe in person you
could check out a bit and get caught up by peers or you can interact and casually ask to do
something another way but online you must figure it all out . . . That stuff you made can be
great but still, it’s definitely teacher-centered at first.”
Online instruction can be rigid and teacher-centered, especially perhaps when setting up
procedures, developing relationships, and orienting students to a course; Lola leaves an
opening for reciprocity to develop when she ends with, ‘at first . . . .’ Given the initial
default power-down experience of online learning, what pedagogies, if any, interrupt this
power dynamic toward reciprocity and care?
Authentic Modeling
Throughout this study, I focused on humanizing pedagogies to cultivate caring in the
online environment through authentic modeling; teacher candidates described some of
these practices as caring and they also named their limits. ‘To be effective it (modeling)
must be genuine . . . Modeling may be more effective in the moral domain than in the
intellectual because its very authenticity is morally significant’ (Noddings, 2002b, p. 287).
In Kitchen’s research guided by his framework of RTE, authenticity meant letting go of his
research aims to focus on veteran teacher Fitzgerald’s development (Kitchen, 2005a); and,
in relationship with Kitchen’s teacher candidates, he found that authenticity was con
veyed in an introductory letter to them (Kitchen, 2005b). In this context of online teaching,
I had to discover what authenticity might mean to these teacher candidates.
I began class synchronous or asynchronous sessions by modeling authenticity through
sharing stories of my own experiences (mostly teaching) and candidates frequently noted
46 C. RABIN
this as legitimizing the relevance of the whole person: ‘You showed us that we mattered,
our experience mattered, when you’d start with the stories in each class and then your
narrative paper. It’s like, I’m a human before I’m an authority here.’ This candidate refers to
a reflection I wrote to provide the context that was missing online – on my own schooling
experiences and how they intersect with race, class, gender, and sexuality (the classic
educational sociology autobiography that I assign) and despite this being optional read
ing in a reading heavy program, candidates often referenced this. Modeling authenticity
through sharing aspects of my identity seemed especially important in the distanced
online environment. In surveys, candidates wrote that online interactions required ‘more
of you’ and ‘breaking through’; ‘Anything personal helps but it has to be authentic.’
I thought we would need to share deeply – that I could transcend aesthetic caring by
focusing on contextualizing ourselves in our stories and candidates confirmed this. In an
interview, Peter said:
We are more likely to truly share when you have modeled doing it in a real way. Then we did
it. Without sharing our situations there is no way we can support each other because we
wouldn’t know how. That said, I wasn’t going to share anything until I saw it was invited and
you did. You didn’t just tell us to. That would have been canned.
I began synchronous class meetings and designed activities with introductions focused
on sharing our stories; for example, I shared about the challenge of teaching online (or the
pandemic) and candidates could reciprocate anonymously (in word clouds, for example).
Introductions ranged from setting norms for dialogue to sharing about our identities
guided by questions, such as: ‘What’s your earliest memory?’; ‘Share a family story about
your name.’; ‘Share a time you felt excluded in school.’; ‘How are you?’; and, ‘Describe one
worst and best thing about this course.’ These could be critiqued as formulaic and
predictable and thus not caring within an ethic; yet, in surveys, 190 out of 203 candidates
recalled these as caring. I tried to transcend formulaic superficiality by connecting themes
in candidates’ stories to course concepts, the program’s trajectory, university, and current
events; in the study’s final year, the pandemic and Black Lives Matter movement were
central and our stories included our recognition of our collective losses and the need to
learn to be caring teachers seemed all the more evident.
The repetitiousness of the introductions may have led to their notice, but this candi
date’s characteristic interview description points to my vulnerability combined with
candidates’ anonymity as relevant toward caring – perhaps particularly given the power
dynamic online, ‘One of the first things that comes to mind about caring was the intros
like the ones with the word clouds about how we were. That felt caring. It was more so
because you’d always share and we could share anonymously and there were options. It
was a bit more on you.’ In her interview, Julia focused on authenticity:
There is no way for emotional and relationship stuff to work unless you as the teacher mean it.
You show it by being who you are and weaving it everywhere, tons of tiny things, like
modeling . . . It would be worse if it was inauthentic. It can’t be authentic unless it acknowl
edges challenges to manage emotions in general and to care.
While modeling through sharing stories and crafting opportunities for candidates to do so
was often described in surveys as caring in-and-of-itself, in interviews, candidates pointed
STUDYING TEACHER EDUCATION 47
out that transcending aesthetic caring within an ethical framework requires actions that
can be elusive in an online environment:
With a tone set, we will be nice to each other, but we won’t go far enough to really know each
other, to be present enough to actually care like to help each other to learn. It’s way harder
online. The specific structures that asked us to do that in context helped, like when you
described all the various ways we could work in a group depending on our strengths.
We had the freedom to work that out so we could value each other.
Affordances for caring in the distanced online environment required integration through
out the learning experiences.
the first day and then the explicit focus on asking us to examine our biases in the moment
in groupwork . . . .so from the start it wasn’t about “nice”; it was deep and it was about
applying what we were learning.’ In their group interview, Sara, Jamie, and Lola com
mented on the importance of continuity toward transcending aesthetic caring:
Sara: Setting “a nice tone” is not enough. It has to be woven into the class. You did that with
the anonymous share time about feelings and then asking us to consider each other’s
feelings in groupwork in specific things like not judging each other for not turning on the
videocam.
Lola: And that’s all in the context of teaching what care ethics is.
Jamie: And this is critical we notice stuff like this as teachers, like is it our colleagues from
another language or culture that we are judging before figuring out what’s going on.
In the online environment in particular, our needs could be hidden and thus, explicit
structures or gentle reminders to listen to each other for opportunities to care helped.
The data revealed several stories of possibilities for caring. In one reflection on a group
collaboration, Maria shared that she was bilingual. She asked to assume the role of scribe
to practice her English, but only upon explicit agreement from her colleagues to refrain
from judging her notetaking. When I asked her about this experience in her interview, she
questioned if she would have been willing to assume this role without ‘counting on caring
responses’:
I shared how I feared being judged for my writing and in our small groups you gave us the
opportunity to shape the groupwork based on those feelings. I told my group I was bilingual,
English my second language. I’d volunteer to be note-taker but I needed everyone to know
I was working on my writing. I welcomed feedback. It felt like some control of the situation,
like counting on caring responses. Without this, I would never have chosen this role.
Given this candidate’s hesitation to volunteer, if I had not explicitly structured ways to
care, it is less likely that she would assume this leadership role and caring would remain
on an aesthetic level, disconnected from her cultural identity.
Dialogue
Throughout the data, candidates pinpointed the opportunities for dialogue in collabora
tion as important to cultivate caring in the online environment. As a long-time teacher
focused on care ethics, I have centered dialogue in my teaching; Yet I found that I reacted
to the distances of online learning by leaning on assignments in the form of concrete
tangible products (independent writing instead of slippery-to-capture dialogue). To the
extent I did this, I had confined caring between teacher-and-student. For decades,
dialogue has been taken up as a relational approach to teaching (see Burbules, 1993;
Noddings, 1984, 2002a) and to online teaching in particular toward social presence
(Aragon, 2003; Du et al., 2005). In Burbules (1993) philosophical analysis of dialogue, he
argued that Noddings’ conception of care was an emotional factor necessary for dialogue.
Discourse analysis is beyond this study’s confines, and I do not claim discussions were
dialogic in the sense Burbules defines: pedagogical, communicative, and relational; here,
I refer to my efforts to cultivate dialogue through nonteleological questions to unearth
candidates’ lived experiences and intersecting identities.
STUDYING TEACHER EDUCATION 49
I limited the freedoms Damarin (1994) suggested decades ago would be necessary to
build caring collaborations in the online environment. Candidates pinpointed dialogic
and collaborative assignments as those that cultivated caring; one wrote in a survey: ‘The
carefully set up groupwork for dialogue, that makes way for caring and learning. Give
students more chances to work together. Also, you should require it.’ Despite the clarity in
reflections like these, it took me another semester to allow myself the breathing space
(Kastberg et al., 2019) to dare to remove the opt-outs of dialogue. I realized that I myself
felt too distanced to care; I wrote in my notes: ‘I will miss or be unable to respond to issues
like uneven participation.’ I questioned the authentic possibilities for caring dialogue,
especially in forced collaborations online. I foreclosed my own research question and
offered options to complete assignments individually. Once more, candidates took me up
on this, completed solo work, and then later expressed bluntly and repeatedly that
providing this option was my mistake – as in this survey comment: ‘The flexibility in this
course with choosing to work alone rather than groups was a poor decision. We would
have dug deeper in the later assignments if we had been told to collaborate and got to
dialogue over those topics.’ Anika connected the necessity of my including collaborative
dialogue to their professional preparation:
We are not just students in this program; we are students becoming teachers. By modeling
that we take the time to dialogue and value it, you teach us to make the time for our own
students to be able to have these opportunities. Otherwise, classroom community and
collaboration is abstract.
Reflect on your experience in PE as a child. Did you hate it? Love it? Why? How were you
included/excluded? Share a story with your colleagues that you think teachers ought to know.
Discuss what you would do as a teacher to improve PE for if you were each other’s teachers. How
can you actively remove barriers to include diverse students?
Essentially, I aligned my teaching with the core assumption within care ethics of our
innate desire to care, for one another and for learning. Yet dialogue – even in a teacher
education context where teacher candidates’ commitments to learn were aligned –
complicates processes and opens opportunities for both more and less caring. I found
I could live with the contradiction of required dialogue if I shared my purposes explicitly
and stayed true to self-study and sought candidates’ perspectives. I shared my purposes
with candidates by describing my reasoning for dialogue – to cultivate caring collabora
tion. In written and video-ed announcements, I quoted candidates’ critiques of the initial
course design. I also sought to create structures aligned with the aims of these dialogues:
In assignments, I asked candidates to reflect on their dialogue and collaboration.
50 C. RABIN
I mentioned these reflections above (Maria’s story), initiated with questions such as,
‘What’s one dynamic in your collaboration you hope to improve? What’s going well?
Share one aspect of your plan for collaboration in your post.’ One response shows
a candidate’s plan and reasoning: ‘I have noticed what I can learn from other teachers
but I have to come prepped . . . I struggle with that and have scheduled in procrastination
time next week.’ With increased collaboration, even thin group assignments were richer
than typical individual work. I shifted assignments from writing to mini-podcast, screen-
share, or talking-heads videos, so discussion could serve as the product and I could glean
a wider window into their experiences.
Ultimately, I needed to trust candidates’ commitment to learn to collaborate with care
despite the distanced environment. I’ve taught two course iterations with these shifts and
thus far, candidates have not asked to work independently. Also, fewer candidates voted
to change homegroups (83% in the first year to 94% in the final iteration); candidates say
they chose to remain with their groups given the efforts they made to collaborate. Their
commitment to dialogue in collaboration may also be related to my approach to online
assessment.
It’s much scarier to submit work online; there’s even more a sense of loss of control. You can’t
say anything to the professor like I was up all night. I threw away 3 drafts. If you write that you
make a big deal. So you don’t say anything, just press submit, and you see the letters, LATE in
red, if you’re 2 minutes past the due date.
Survey comments also revealed the power dynamics in mechanized grading, which could
exacerbate concerns for groupwork and undermine trust, ‘There’s an awareness of the
possibility of rigidity, like quizzes that grade you mechanically.’
Diminishing the visibility and impact of grades made way for a focus on learning in
relationship. Along with a classic ‘virtual walk around the course,’ I created a video-ed (and
transcribed) ‘grading statement’ summarizing research on the impact of focusing on
grades (Kohn, 2011). An excerpt follows: ‘I’ll take on responsibility for chasing after missing
members and accountability complications of groupwork; during groupwork assessment
will be formative to free you to focus on learning; feedback will be public and in video
format; any coursework can be revised till all are satisfied; and, you will self-assess; when
our assessments differ, we’ll meet to chat about it.’ In the longer version, I included quotes
from graduates’ interview data, such as formative groupwork assessment to interrupt the
‘set up to not get along.’
Candidates repeatedly mentioned the video feedback as caring on my part. As in this
survey comment, 83% of candidates mentioned video feedback consistently positively:
‘There’s nothing I’ve experienced in grading that makes it work as well as the videos. From
the beginning you get the feeling that the instructor is thinking with you and that orients
you to the ideas.’ In their coursework at the end of a podcast, one group chatted about
their video-ed assessment:
Victoria: For me the video took intimidation out of assessment, turned it into dialogue. That
she would take time to make the video just for us.
Sara: Yeah, it felt like she cared about it, you know? My heart just drops when I receive
feedback in written form. The video felt like so much less pressure.
Nancy: I totally agree. It’s like with the tone it lets you breathe and know the feeling behind
the words is caring, not like you are being judged.
teacher candidates well enough in the online context to ascertain their ‘best intentions’ or
to cultivate the reciprocity this candidate refers to with the ‘they and you’ as opposed to
just a teacher here:
I learned that grading can affirm students . . . . by respecting us enough to ask to take our
thinking further and help do that. The grade goes up if “they and you” think it should.
As Sam put it, ‘I stopped thinking about the numbers associated with my submission and
began to notice how awesome our lesson plan was becoming with all the feedback and
everything I was learning.’
Candidates also said that confirmation through assessment could support their caring
collaborations. Assessment was no longer a ‘set up to not get along’ but a structure that
supported a moral ecology. Michael described how downplaying grading in groupwork
afforded them the chance to focus on their relationships:
The hugest thing was you putting into perspective not judging each other, remembering we
do not know what others are going thru, not our role to judge them, but to encourage
contribution, we knew we could let you do the communication if it’s not working and that
helped us to focus on valuing effort.
When candidates didn’t have to worry about failing a course due to another’s actions –
because they were able to explain the situation in self-assessments and I chased after
errant members – they were freer to confirm one another’s best intentions; interestingly,
I had minimal chasing to do. Another candidate described applying her learning about
bias and ‘keeping an open mind’ toward her colleagues in groupwork:
The (course) content addresses acknowledging our biases . . . the self-discovery work at the
beginning so we look at how if we value perfectionism it color show we look at each other,
what each person has to offer. That was really important. If you keep an open mind about
a person when we don’t truly know what’s going on with them they surprise you. That
happened to me. The statement about remembering when we encourage our colleagues and
value their contribution that is us learning, too. That’s learning to be a teacher.
With grading a minimal focus and self-assessment accounted for, candidates may have
been freer to care-for each other.
and connection. Caring in the online environment highlighted rigidities in the teacher–
student hierarchy and was perceived as manifest in cumulative experiences of (1)
modeling authentic caring, (2) continuity, (3) dialogue and collaboration, and (4) cen
tering self-assessment.
Throughout this study, self-study methods uncovered my assumptions as a long-time
teacher and researcher in care ethics. Without the systematic, self-focused, and improve
ment-aims of self-study, I could have assumed thin independent coursework was an
unavoidable consequence of restrictions of digitization. I assumed candidates would
perceive me relatively the same as they had face-to-face. An outgoing and vocal candi
date informed me that I intimidated her online; I can only imagine how diffident students
might experience my online presence without my having found that I needed to make
explicit efforts to model authenticity and weave opportunities for candidates to do so
throughout their collaborations. Focusing on authenticity helped to transcend aesthetic
caring, a veneer of neutrality and equality; without candidates’ background in care ethics,
they may have been more liberal in deeming pedagogies caring and the findings here
might have reflected social presence. Toward practicing authentic caring, I learned that
I needed to explicitly share my own reflection on my educational experiences as they
intersected with my race, class, and gender and to include relationship-focused prompts
for groupwork so candidates had the impetus to practice caring.
I learned to afford myself the breathing room to be receptive to my teacher candidates’
perspectives and infuse dialogue and collaboration despite my own distanced role
(Kitchen, 2005b). Dialogic collaborative pedagogies in the online environment led to
deeper thinking and a moral ecology. While fostering caring collaboration in an online
(or any) course may be tied to caring teacher–student relationships, it is critical for teacher
preparation to not overlook cultivating caring collaborations between candidates; teacher
education must prepare teachers to create communities of learning and collective efficacy
(Goddard et al., 2004). Programs and the courses within in them are always pressed for
time, and caring between teacher candidates is often disregarded in teacher education for
care ethics (Murawski & Dieker, 2013; Rabin, 2019b; Sanger & Osguthorpe, 2013). The
possibilities that downplaying assessment while drawing on self-assessment opened for
caring collaboration in the online space is promising for preparing teachers who under
stand the value of professional relationships and can interrupt the isolation associated
with high attrition rates. As one candidate put it in a survey: ‘The most important thing
I learned in this course was how and why to collaborate with teachers.’
Over the course of this three-year study, the promise of self-study for teacher-
educators to live our ‘values more fully in practice’ (Whitehead, 2000, p. 90) seems
particularly critical to practicing care ethics because caring is idiosyncratic and sensitive
to the individual across differences of culture, race, age, and all that divides and distin
guishes each cared-for in each situation (Barnes, 2018; Noddings, 1984; Valenzuela, 1999).
The boundaries to caring in the online context manifest in a multitude of invisible forms in
each teaching context; differences of age, culture, experience, race, etc., contribute to
discontinuities for care. The unforgiving nature of online interactions clarifies the efforts
educators always need to make to learn what cultivates a caring environment for each
individual in each case. Since relational aims like caring are elusive in any realm, it is likely
they’ll fall by the wayside without self-study practices.
54 C. RABIN
References
Akcaoglu, M., & Lee, E. (2016). Increasing social presence in online learning through small
Aragon, S. R. (2003). Creating social presence in online environments. New Directions for Adultand
Continuing Education, 2003(100), 57–68. https://doi.org/10.1002/ace.119
Barnes, M. E. (2018). Conflicting conceptions of care and teaching and pre-service teacher attrition.
Teaching Education, 29(2), 178–193. https://doi.org/10.1080/10476210.2017.1372411
Berry, S. (2019). Faculty perspectives on online learning: The instructor’s role in creating community.
Online Learning, 23(4), 181–191. https://doi.org/10.24059/olj.v23i4.2038
Boe, E., Cook, L., & Sunderland, R. (2008). Teacher turnover: Examining exit attrition, teaching area
transfer, and school migration. Exceptional Children, 75(1), 7–31.
Burbules, N. (1993). Dialogue in teaching: Theory and practice. Teachers College Press.
Cutri, R., & Whiting, E. (2018). Opening spaces for teacher educator knowledge in a faculty devel
opment program on blended learning course development. Studying Teacher Education, 14(2),
125–140. https://doi.org/10.1080/17425964.2018.1447920
Damarin, S. K. (1994). Equity, caring, and beyond. Can feminist ethics inform educational.
Du, J., Havard, B., & Li, H. (2005). Dynamic online discussion: Task-oriented interaction for deep
learning. Educational Media International, 42(3), 207–218. https://doi.org/10.1080/
09523980500161221
Dunn, M., & Rice, M. (2019). Community. toward dialogue: A self-study of online teacher.
Fernandes, L. (2019). ‘Could a focus on ethics of care within teacher education have the potential to
reduce the exclusion of autistic learners?’ TEAN Journal,11(4), 47–56
Gilligan, C. (1982). A different voice. Harvard University Press.
Goddard, R., Hoy, W. K., & Hoy, A. W. (2004). Collective efficacy beliefs: Theoretical developments,
empirical evidence, and future directions. Educational Researcher, 33(3), 3–13. https://doi.org/0.
3102/0013189X033003003
Goldstein, L. (2009). More than gentle smiles and warm hugs: Applying the ethic of care to early
childhood education. Journal of Research in Childhood Education, 12(2), 244–261. https://doi.org/
10.1080/02568549809594888
Goodlad, J. I., Soder, R., & Sirotnik, K. A. (1990). The moral dimensions of teaching. San Francisco:
Jossey-Bass.
Hansen, D. T. (2001). Teaching as a moral activity. In V. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of research on
teaching (4th ed. ed., pp. 826–857). American Educational.
Hargreaves, A. (2002). Teaching and betrayal. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 8(3),
393–407. https://doi.org/10.1080/135406002100000521
Held, V. (2006). The ethics of care: Personal, political, and global. Oxford University Press..
Kastberg, S. E., Lischka, A. E., & Hillman, S. L. (2019). Exploring mathematics teacher educator
questioning as a relational practice: Acknowledging imbalances. Studying Teacher Education, 15
(1), 67–81. https://doi.org/10.1080/17425964.2018.1541278
Kastberg, S. E., Lischka, A. E., & Hillman, S. L. (2020). Written feedback as a relational practice
Revealing mediating factors. Studying Teacher Education, 16(3), 324–344. https://doi.org/10.
1080/17425964.2020.1834152
Kitchen, J. (2005a). Looking backward, moving forward: Understanding my narrative as a teacher
educator. Studying Teacher Education, 1(1), 17–30. https://doi.org/10.1080/17425960500039835
Kitchen, J. (2005b). Conveying respect and empathy: Becoming a relational teacher educator.
Studying Teacher Education, 1(2), 195–207. https://doi.org/10.1080/17425960500288374
Kitchen, J. (2008). The feedback loop in reflective practice: A teacher educator responds to reflective
writing by preservice teachers. Excelsior, 2(2), 37–46.
Knapp, N. F. (2018). Increasing interaction in a flipped online classroom through video conferencing.
Tech Trends, 62(6), 618–624. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11528-018-0336-z
Kohn, A. (2011). The case against grades. Educational Leadership, 69(3), 28–33. https://eric.ed.gov/?
id=EJ963095
STUDYING TEACHER EDUCATION 55
Swartz, B. C., Gachago, D., & Belford, C. (2018). To care or not to care - reflections on the ethics of
blended learning in times of disruption. South African Journal of Higher Education, 32(6), 49–64.
https://doi.org/10.20853/32-6-2659
Trout, M. (2018). Embodying care: igniting a critical turn in a teacher educator’s relational Tu, C.-H.
(2000). Online learning migration: From social learning theory to social presence practice.
Studying Teacher Education, 14(1), 39–55. https://doi.org/10.1080/17425964.2017.1404976
Tu, C.H. (2000). Online learning migration: From social learning theory to social presence theory in a
CMC environment. Journal of Network and Computer Applications, 23(1), 27–37.
Valenzuela, A. (1999). Subtractive schooling: U.S.-Mexican youth and the politics of caring. State
University of New York Press.
Velasquez, A., Graham, C. R., & Osguthorpe, R. (2013). Caring in a technology-mediated online high
school context. Distance Education, 34(1), 97–118. https://doi.org/10.1080/01587919.2013.770435
Whitehead, J. (2000). How do I improve my practice? Creating and legitimating an epistemology of
practice. Reflective Practice: International and Multidisciplinary Perspectives, 1(1), 91–104. https://
doi.org/10.1080/713693129
● What gets in the way of caring in the online environment of this course? What supports caring, if
anything does?
● How does caring manifest, or not, in your experience of assessment, curriculum, and teaching?
● Describe your experience with relationships in online instruction.